


we're okay (even if we're not)

by escapismandsharpobjects



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Crying, Gen, Nightmares, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapismandsharpobjects/pseuds/escapismandsharpobjects
Summary: whumptober day 2 - prompt: nightmares (alt no.10)companion to my other fic all you need is someone to hold you and tell you that it's going to be alright from nick's pov.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Hank Griffin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	we're okay (even if we're not)

**Author's Note:**

> hi what's up! welcome to my second whumptober 2020 fic! it's set after season four so there are some spoilers for that in here, hope you enjoy!

_ The box sits in front of him on the floor, taunting him. “Open it,” whispers a voice that sounds half like Juliette. “Go on, Nick. Open it.”  _

_ He loves Juliette, and trusts her, so he opens the box. Nestled inside is his mother’s head, just as it always is. He stumbles backwards, but instead of hitting a wall, he runs into something, someone, softer, and turns around, wrapping his arms around whoever it is in a desperate bid for comfort, or safety.  _

_ Any notion of comfort and safety is yanked out from under him when he feels sharp pricks in his back, like claws. He pulls away, startled, and stares right into the face of the Hexenbeist Juliette. She smiles at him, sharp and dangerous and so deeply, deeply not herself.  _

_ He moves to escape, and her hand closes around his wrist, trapping him. Claws dig into skin once again.  _

_ “Juliette, stop-” he pleads, and she slaps him across the face, leaving behind long scratches which burn like fire.  _

_ “Don’t talk to me,” she hisses. “You did this to me, Nick, you…” _

_ And then she is just Juliette again, and she lets go of him, stumbling frantically backwards, a terrified expression in her eyes. “No, no, no,” she says, and before Nick can turn around to see what’s wrong, an arrow strikes into her heart, and she collapses, her body falling next to his mother’s head. Both of them dead, because of him. His fault.  _

_ Someone touches his shoulder, and he flinches away. “No,” he says, he can’t let this happen, it can’t be happening, none of this can be real. “No. No!” He is screaming now, half delirious from the grief that envelops him like physical pain. “No!” _

\--

Someone touches him again, shaking him, and suddenly everything goes away, and he wakes up, shooting immediately into a sitting position, glancing around the room for danger, squinting in the bright light, not sure of where he is or what is happening. All he knows is that he is afraid, and then a voice speaks.

“Nick.”

_ Hank. _ He glances over in the direction of the voice, then glances away. He can feel his whole body shaking, barely controlled. He gives his head a shake, too, attempting to clear off the fog of sleep. 

“Nick,” Hank repeats. “Nick, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

He looks back at Hank again, willing his eyes to stay focused. He breathes in unevenly, and too fast, like he’s just run a marathon.  _ It’s Hank, _ he thinks. Hank won’t lie to him. 

“Breathe, man,” Hank suggests, and then his hand is on Nick’s shoulder, and all Nick can feel is its warmth, but underneath it, he feels Juliette’s claws digging into his skin, and some combination of the two of these tears him down. 

He sobs once, and it tears at his throat, and then, before he has the chance to get himself together, he’s crying, every single feeling that’s been lurking inside of him barrelling its way out. He can’t stop himself from making some sort of sound, whether it’s a scream or a whimper he can’t be sure, and looks to Hank for  _ something _ \- reassurance, maybe, or just a clue about what to do.

Hank looks back at him, and he looks so  _ worried  _ that Nick can barely stand it, and then his arms are wrapping around Nick, secure and comforting and completely unlike Juliette’s arms in his dream. A hand cards through his hair, and he closes his eyes and buries his face in Hank’s shoulder and  _ cries.  _

Eventually, over the course of several minutes, Nick loosens his grip on Hank’s pajama shirt, dropping his arms to his sides. He doesn’t make a move besides that. Hank’s hand stops moving through his hair, instead resting on top of his head, but he doesn’t let go. Nick tries to breathe, willing the tears to stop falling.

“I’ve got you,” Hank says. He pauses for a second and continues. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Nick sobs softly at that - nothing is ever going to be okay again, but he nods into Hank’s shoulder anyway, wishing that he could believe the words.

They sit like that for quite some time, until the tears finally do stop falling, and Nick realizes that he’s absolutely  _ exhausted, _ and half falls asleep, just for a second.

Immediately, he snaps his head back up, terrified of what will happen if he falls back asleep. Hank looks at him, startled, and suggests that he be more careful with snapping his head around. “You can go back to sleep, it’ll be okay,” he says. 

He won’t be okay, he  _ can’t  _ be okay, he will be  _ alone _ and  _ afraid  _ and-

“I can’t-” Nick starts, but he can’t finish the sentence. “Can you-” but he still can’t force the words out. “Would-” 

He can’t say it, he can’t ask, he can’t  _ be that person.  _

And he doesn’t have to.

“You think I’m letting you sleep on an uncomfortable hotel couch after this? Come on man, no way. The bed’s big enough for two anyway, if we don’t sprawl out.”

Nick feels himself smile, half against his will, as Hank offers the thing he has always been too much  _ himself  _ to ask for. 

“Come on,” Hank says, and he stands up, offering a hand to Nick. He takes it, and lets himself be pulled to his feet. 

Now that he’s standing, Nick can feel how much his entire body is still shaking, but he pretends to ignore it, and Hank is nice enough to do the same. 

As soon as they reach the bed, Nick flops down onto it, burrowing underneath the rumpled covers and burying his face in a pillow - the one Hank had been using, before Nick had woken him up (he tries not to think about how all of  _ that  _ makes him feel). He takes a deep breath in, and the familiar smell of Hank surrounds him, as Hank himself sinks into the bed next to him. 

Nick lies still for a moment, and then rolls over, stretching out an arm until it smacks into Hank’s torso. He kicks out his leg for good measure, and mentally sighs in relief when Hank pushes it away.  _ We’re okay _ , he thinks, and closes his eyes.  _ We’re okay. _

**Author's Note:**

> i know i've written like this exact same premise of two fics from different perspectives about a nightmare before but like what can i say...i'm a simple man. anyway i hope you enjoyed this fic, i had fun writing it!! (also i will be writing Many more nick fics throughout the month so if u want more...stay tuned)


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